Page 9 of Quarter Miles (Runaway 3)

I’d accepted his invitation immediately. Living with Cash was easy. Comfortable. We talked every morning over coffee and cereal. We ate dinner together each night. He was my best friend. My confidant. My companion.

Five years, and in that time, he’d never once disappeared to a woman’s bed. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to tell me he had a girlfriend.

A trip to Oregon and back was just what I needed to erase the sting of his silence.

“Be careful,” Easton said, giving me a hug goodbye.

“I will.” I stepped to the door, ready to get in, when the sound of a diesel engine caught my ear. My gaze flicked to the road as a truck appeared.

Shit. That was Cash’s truck.

Call it petty, but I’d hoped to give him a dose of his own by keeping this trip of mine a secret.

The urge to hop in the Cadillac tempted me toward the driver’s seat. But damn my feet, they stayed rooted in place, waiting as he eased into the empty space beside my truck in the driveway.

Had Gemma been waiting for him? Was that why she’d been looking down the road?

No. No way. This trip was her idea. She’d been at dinner on Friday night when Cash had arrived with Dany. Gemma knew how hard it had been for me to see him with another woman. This trip had been her idea. She’d suggested I take the Cadillac, get some distance and give my heart a chance to heal.

Though she didn’t look surprised as he shut off his truck and stepped out. No, she looked . . . guilty.

Cash sauntered over wearing the same clothes he’d had on Friday night.

Nice. That was exactly what I needed—a reminder that he’d been sleeping somewhere other than his own damn bed.

“Hey.” His voice was gravelly and rough, like he’d just woken up.

It was the voice that made my knees weak every morning when he shuffled into the kitchen in search of coffee. His dark hair would be sticking out in all directions. He’d be wearing only a low-slung pair of pajama pants, his broad, naked chest and washboard abs on full display.

Was that where things had gone wrong? Maybe I shouldn’t have moved in with Cash. Any hot-blooded woman would fall for a sexy cowboy with a strong, stubbled jaw and a sleepy, devilish smile.

Convincing myself that living together was the problem might have been plausible if this crush of mine hadn’t started years before we’d ever shared a roof.

My feelings for Cash had grown like the evergreens, ring by ring until the trunk was so massive I couldn’t wrap my arms around it.

Still, when I got back, I was moving out. If I managed to get my feelings under control, great. Even then, I didn’t want to hear Cash’s bedsprings squeak when he let Dany sleep over.

I’d never liked that girl. She was too perfect, with her satin blond hair and perpetual smile.

Dany. Ugh. My lip curled.

“What?” he asked, stopping in front of me, his gaze on my scowl.

“Nothing.” I waved it off.

“How’d it go?” Easton asked Cash.

Really? Couldn’t they do the play-by-play of Cash’s weekend spent screwing his girlfriend after I left?

Cash shrugged. “Meh.”

Meh? I guess Dany wasn’t so perfect after all. It cheered me up a smidge to know she was mediocre in bed.

“Did you see the lion?” Easton asked.

Wait. What? “Lion? We have a lion?”

Cash nodded. “Gemma said she saw a mountain lion at the expansion property.”